


The Boy Who Was Too Young

by shingo_the_pest



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Abandoned Work - Unfinished and Discontinued, Bottom Kirk, M/M, Mpreg, reference to abortion, teenagers who really are too young
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2009-10-03
Updated: 2010-04-09
Packaged: 2018-02-12 09:22:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 8
Words: 13,089
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2104296
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shingo_the_pest/pseuds/shingo_the_pest
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jim has a child he hasn’t seen for years, and a secret shame he hides from even the closest of his friends.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Title** : ~~Baby Daddy~~ The Boy Who Was Too Young  
 **Rating** : mild NC-17  
 **Pairing** : OMC/Jim, Bones/Jim  
 **Warning** : mpreg, teenagers who are really too young  
 **Thanks** : To both [](http://lifebehindadesk.livejournal.com/profile)[**lifebehindadesk**](http://lifebehindadesk.livejournal.com/) and [](http://hebrewhammer42.livejournal.com/profile)[**hebrewhammer42**](http://hebrewhammer42.livejournal.com/) for the awesome beta.  
 **Notes** : In case you didn’t see the warning, this is _mpreg_. Written this prompt [here](http://community.livejournal.com/st_xi_kink/9715.html?thread=28634099#t28634099), which I have actually responded to twice, with one het response and now this. This is not the first prompt I have double filled to, and I feel a little geeky.

 

 

**Chicago 2253**

The man looks kind, but Jacob knows to not trust strangers.

"Hey there." The man smiles, hopeful and sad.

Jacob smiles back, but doesn't step forward. He hugs the slide’s support pole, and hides half his face behind it, shyly.

"You probably don't even remember me. That's okay. At least, well...there's not much I can do about it now." The man hangs his head, and Jacob thinks the stranger might be crying. Jacob almost steps forward to touch the man's head in comfort, but is too uncertain whether that would be okay or not.

The man looks up, and his eyes are determined. "Jacob, I want you to know I love you. I wish I could be there for you. I wish I could… could be with you. Remember me, okay? Please?"

Jacob nods, because when adults ask you something, and you don't understand, you should nod.

Swiftly, the man hugs him, the way Jacob's granddad does, so tight it hurts. And then the man leaves in a hurry, like he doesn't want to be seen.

\-----------------------------

**Riverside 2248**

Winona used to drive her two boys to Iowa City for a fun afternoon, or to go to her favorite Italian restaurant. It was about 30 miles north of Riverside, and they went often.

When Jim was 15, he snuck away with several friends for a night on the town in Iowa City. Sam had run away to college earlier that year, which led to Jim spending more time with classmates, less with family. Their high school football team was playing in the regionals tonight at an Iowa City high school, and Jim left his mother and step-father on the far side of the bleachers to sit with Robert and Michael, and the quieter Zack. Twenty minutes into the game all four of them snuck out of sight, giggling like little kids.

The goal was to find a bar where no one knew them. But they didn't find any taverns as they walked through the opposing team's high school grounds, or through the neighborhood of middle class houses, and into the shopping area. They did find a grocery store, restaurants, gas stations and a strip mall. It was in a gas station, where Michael threw a Twinkie into the old fashion hot dog turner and Robert snickered as the plastic wrapper melted, that Jim met Clayton.

The college student drove up in an antique that immediately caught Jim's attention. Jim slipped outside, and approached the young man who was filling the car with gasoline.

"How long you had this?" Jim asked casually, an eye on the old Ford.

The college boy glanced at Jim out of the corner of his eye. "It was a gift from my pop. We've had it for generations. I bet you've never seen one before, huh?"

"My dad had one." Jim says it in a friendly, neutral way, with no hint at the bad memories. Frank already ruined the evening, by yelling at him on the drive here. Winona was tired, and angry at both of them. It had been a tense car ride.

The college boy scoffs, and sarcastically says, "Oh really?" But Jim doesn't care because t's goal tonight isn't cars.

"Where you headed?" The fifteen-year-old asks.

"Meeting up with some friends."

And through Jim's charm and persistence, Clayton ends up taking all four high schoolers with him. They drive through the city, night air cool, all the neon lights on and Jim feels that maybe this is what it would feel like to drive through Las Vegas. They reach the other end of the city, where the University of Iowa is. Clayton pulls up to a small apartment complex and they all head upstairs, where college friends are bewildered at the guests, but amused. Beer is passed around; the teenagers are thrilled, and the undergrads get a kick out of seeing the kids drunk.

\----------------------------------

Jim was grounded for a month after that stunt, but he snuck off again to meet Clayton. He stole his mom’s modern car a few times, coerced Robert’s older sister to drive them up there a few other times. And eventually, he found himself at Clayton’s apartment with his hand down Clayton's pants, all the undergrads drunk and laughing and goading him on.

Clayton’s eyes were mocking. With the heat of a velvety cock under his palm, Jim stupidly rose to meet the challenge, sucking the undergrad off in the living room, while friends watched, to prove he wasn’t afraid to.

After that, Clayton made an effort to drive south to Riverside. They spent time in his antique car, went for long rides, and disappeared into the night.


	2. Chapter 2

**Title** : Baby Daddy, Part 2  
 **Rating** : mild NC-17  
 **Pairing** : OMC/Jim, eventual Bones/Jim  
 **Warning** : mpreg, teenagers who are really too young  
 **Thanks** : To both [](http://lifebehindadesk.livejournal.com/profile)[**lifebehindadesk**](http://lifebehindadesk.livejournal.com/) and [](http://hebrewhammer42.livejournal.com/profile)[**hebrewhammer42**](http://hebrewhammer42.livejournal.com/) for the awesome beta.

 

 

**Riverside 2248**

“Uh,” Jim whined, and sunk into the bed, Clayton rutting enthusiastically behind him. Jim’s shoes were still on, his jeans and boxers pulled down to his knees. He moaned into the pillow, hands gripping the sheets as Clay rocked back and forth into him.

The next day was the first day Winona noticed the hickeys. She was furious and worried. “Please Jim, please, please don’t get that girl of yours pregnant. Can I meet her? I think all of us should talk – us, and her parents.”

Of course Jim refused, and that started a whole new argument, and they separated later that week unhappily. He stiffly hugged her good-bye as she boarded the shuttle for Starfleet. Winona had a feeling that Jim was hiding something bigger than a horny girlfriend. Jim couldn’t make up his mind whether he was happy or angry that she was bugging off to space.

Jim threw up the next morning, and he felt just miserable. His mother was not there to comfort him.

\----------------------------------

“Aw fuck,” Jim moaned again, his chest heaving up and down. Clayton kissed his way down, from collarbone to the softness of Jim’s stomach, gently teething the ticklish skin.

“You’re getting fat kid,” Clay teases.

“Shudup, and suck me.”

\----------------------------------

James _has_ gained weight. His waist has grown larger and larger, and there’s now a noticeable curve when he looks at himself sideways in the mirror.

Determined to control the problem, Jim counts calories and works out.

But that _doesn’t_ solve the problem, and several weeks later the measuring tape tells Jim he’s gained another half inch.

Frank has now noticed, and mocked him once or twice during arguments. It’s usually completely irrelevant to whatever they’re arguing about, and below the belt, but it still affects Jim, usually when he’s alone in his room, upset, angry and hating the world.

No one has said anything at school yet. His growing gut is only noticeable in the locker room anyway. The guys might heckle him about zits, or a bad shot in basketball, or about sucking college boy cock, but they kindly turn a blind eye to his weight gain. It might just be too awkward to acknowledge.

\----------------------------------

He’s now strictly avoiding all fats and carbs, eating almost all of his calories as lean protein, probably not getting enough veggies, and he’s learned about a dozen exercises that he does every morning and night with the barbells in his room. There is some truly nice definition showing on his arms and pecs. And bizarrely, his abs are firming up, but the bulge is still there.

But whenever he goes to Clayton’s apartment, he throws away all of his healthy rules to get shitfaced. Jim’s on his third beer now, and determined to reach seven by the end of tonight. And if he coerces Clay into bringing out the shots, it’ll be a great night. Drink, and drink, and drink some more.

He wakes up twice that night to pee. Lately, it feels like there’s a knot of lead in his intestines, and it’s pressing down on his bladder.

\----------------------------------

Finally, Frank decides that he needs to take Jim to the doctor. The bulge is noticeable under a t-shirt, and Jim should be gaining inches in other areas like his arms and legs if this was normal weight gain. Jim has been having nightmares of intestinal worms or tumors.

The doctor purses her lips as she examines James.

“Have you been drinking, James?”

“Pft, no.” He scoffs.

“Sexually active?”

“Maybe.”

“Drugs?”

“Do pixie sticks count?”

Whatever her tricorder tells her must be very interesting, because she does more tests and refuses to explain to Jim what she’s looking for.

Finally she seems to make up her mind, giving Jim an odd look. She pulls Frank into the room before telling them the most mortifying thing James has ever heard.


	3. Chapter 3

**Title** : The Boy Who Was Too Young (previously "Baby Daddy") Part 3  
 **Rating** : mild NC-17  
 **Pairing** : OMC/Jim, eventual Bones/Jim  
 **Warning** : mpreg, teenagers who are really too young  
 **Thanks** : To both [](http://lifebehindadesk.livejournal.com/profile)[**lifebehindadesk**](http://lifebehindadesk.livejournal.com/) and [](http://hebrewhammer42.livejournal.com/profile)[**hebrewhammer42**](http://hebrewhammer42.livejournal.com/) for the awesome beta, and [](http://harumi.livejournal.com/profile)[**harumi**](http://harumi.livejournal.com/) for brainstorming.

 

 

 **Enterprise 2258**  
(After the Narada Attack)

In the future, Jim will have a quiet secret he’s too wounded to share.

“Did I ever tell you about my little girl?” McCoy swirls the bourbon in his glass around, staring through it and into far away Georgia.

Kirk isn’t sure if he wants to talk about this. “No, you haven’t.”

“She’ll be turning ten this year. It’s been two years since I last held her.”

Jim nods, quiet and solemn. “That’s too long.”

“It’s going to be five years before we’re on Earth again. She’ll be 15 then…”

Jim doesn’t nod this time, just stares into the distance.

“And she’s got a new father. Boils my blood that he gets to play father to my little girl.” McCoy shakes his head in resentful disgust.

Jim tips his head and smiles this time. “Don't worry, a step-father is never a replacement for the real one.” His eyes meet McCoy's. “They’re just stuck up assholes you hate.”

The doctor laughs, but looks away. “You got the asshole part down. Don’t know what Jocelyn sees in that man. Not sure what I ever saw in her for that matter.”

“Your first pair of boobs?”

“Jim!”

Kirk grins. “Come’on, be honest. Were they the first pair you ever saw?” He twitches an eyebrow lewdly.

The corner of McCoy’s mouth quirks in humor. “Second. Used to see Scarlet Ridges undress with her blinds open. I think she liked the attention.”

“But see, it was your first pair up close! And then you’re hooked, until you suddenly find yourself married.”

“And who was your first pair?”

“Lucy Smith, in fifth grade.”

McCoy’s jaw drops. “Jesus Jim! How young were you?!”

The captain should not look so smug. “Young and proud.”

“Honestly. Was this up close?” McCoy shook his head incredulously.

Jim was still grinning, though it fades with just a hint of shame. “You betcha. Talked her into it, though she was as nervous and excited as me, really. We didn’t know what we were doing, so we just took our clothes off and touched each other’s ‘special’ parts. I thought I had lost my virginity!” Jim laughed at himself. “I bragged to everyone, though I didn’t go all the way ‘til, well, later.”

Bones was quiet, mussing. “I had fantasies at that age. Wasn’t sticking my hand down a girl’s skirt, though. Jocelyn was my first. I was seventeen and it was our prom night. Though she wasn’t…my only. I did go out several times, while we were still married. It was after she wouldn’t let me sleep with her, frigid whor- bitch. When was your first time?”

Jim actually hesitates on this. “Well, it was, well, I was 15.”

McCoy shook his head again. “Too young. But at least you weren’t 12.”

“Hey, I had plenty of naked make out sessions at 12. Just no full ‘penis goes in the hole’ experience.”

“Too damn young.”

Kirk quirks his lip, but it really wasn’t a smile. Just a sad, wistful expression. “Yeah, I might have run into things too fast. It was too exciting to be cautious. Caused a lot of…trouble, in the end.”

Bones nods, and slowly closes his eyes, breathes out. “A lot of fucking trouble, just to stick your dick somewhere soft. Ain’t worth it. Well…except for Joanna.”

Jim is quiet for a long moment. “…would you do it all over again for her?”

“Yes. Over and over, every frustrating, painful moment.” The certainty in Bones’ voice doesn’t make Kirk feel better.

“Yeah…” Jim leans back to stare through the ceiling, into the past. “You get to talk to her, right?”

“Yeah, I call her. Talk with her every week or so on the vid. She’s grown too quickly.”

Jim sighs. “Must be nice to talk to her. See her.”

“Be nicer if I had my god damn daughter.”

“Yeah.”

 

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Title** : The Boy Who Was Too Young (previously "Baby Daddy") Part 4  
 **Rating** : mild NC-17  
 **Pairing** : OMC/Jim, eventual Bones/Jim  
 **Warning** : mpreg, teenagers who are really too young  
 **Thanks** : To both [](http://lifebehindadesk.livejournal.com/profile)[**lifebehindadesk**](http://lifebehindadesk.livejournal.com/) and [](http://hebrewhammer42.livejournal.com/profile)[**hebrewhammer42**](http://hebrewhammer42.livejournal.com/) for the awesome beta jobs.

 

 

 

**Riverside 2248**

The drive back from the doctor’s office didn’t go well.

“I can’t fucking believe this…this is a one in a million chance of happening to anyone. One in a million. Totally impossible. But you always manage to land in the stupidest shit.” Frank shook his head in disgust and disbelief as they drove down Main Street. A neighbor walking out of Jacob’s Bar and Grill waved. Jim tried to sink into the seat. Frank waved back but didn’t look happy.

His eyes were on the road, but he still managed to direct his accusations towards Jim. “How the hell do you pull these things off? How the hell do you manage to pull off the impossible? Do you do this on purpose? Do you wake up in the morning and tell yourself, ‘I’m gonna go fling myself off a cliff. I’m gonna go get myself knocked up. I’m gonna be allergic to the first medication my step father ever gave me. I’m gonna be the most rebellious, unagreeable asshole of a son anyone could possibly have.’ Well congratulations- you’ve got a kid of your own now. You can watch them fuck up your life and ruin your marriage.” Frank stopped as they drove up to their house. They both sat silently while the truck cooled down. Frank shook his head again, and hit the steering wheel, but his actions seemed more hopeless than angry.

“How the hell am I going to tell Winona?”

The man slammed the truck’s door open then shut, and walked away through the autumn leaves, leaving James in the passenger seat. The boy sat very still and quiet. But his breath hitched, then his expression twisted in distress. Blue eyes shone wetly, but he refused to cry, too proud.

\---------------------------------

“I’ve got something to tell you.” Jim told Clay over the phone.

“Yeah, well I’m at school.” Clayton complained.

“Fuck you! This is important…”

“Like I care! If you’re gonna be a whiny ass pansy, then I don’t want to talk to you.”

That stung Jim’s feelings, and he was already a mess to begin with. “Whatever,” he said quietly. Rebelliously.

“Well, don’t you have something to say?”

“I dunno.” Jim shrugged, and refused to say anything after that, obediently cowed and sulky, but he didn’t hang up, unconsciously waiting to see what Clayton might do or say. In charge of the conversation, the undergrad was more agreeable. He ignored Jim’s initial plea, and talked about classes and interviews as he raced across the historic University of Iowa campus.

“So I might get this internship! But the lady who interviewed me, she looked exactly like my old girlfriend. Straight blond hair, skinny as hell. I was thinking about fucking her face while she interviewed me.” Clay chuckled. “I’m at class now. I’m gonna let you go. Want me to come get you tonight?”

Jim grunted in acquiescence over the phone.

“Awesome. Wear those jeans with the hole in the back, and no underwear, ‘kay? I wanna finger you through the tear. I’ll be by late tonight. Bye!” Then Clay hung up.

\---------------------------------

When Clayton drove by it was past 11:30 pm. Strangely, the porch light was on, and when Clay slowed down to eye the house, he saw a tall man standing in the living room, boldly watching him. Clayton gunned the gas, and drove away.

His phone rang moments later. The caller was Jim.

Clay yelled into the phone as he drove. “What the hell was that? Your step dad knew I was coming, he was watching me! Why the hell didn’t you warn me?!”

Jim’s voice was sullen. “He wants to talk to you. Would you come back?”

Clay’s expression was incredulous. “Hell no! I ain’t talking to that asshole!”

“Get back here! This is big and I need to tell you something!”

“I’m not getting involved with any of this bullshit! If you’re in trouble, you’re on your own.”

“This is big! I’ve got a medical problem! I’ve…I’m…” Jimmy couldn’t say whatever it was, and Clay held his breath in restrained anticipation.

“What? You’re what?”

There was a long, silent stretch and he could hear Jim struggling to say something. Then a man’s voice in the background said, “give me the phone” and Clay hung up quickly.

\---------------------------------

They avoided telling Winona as long as they could.

“Is something wrong?” she asked over the vid. She was still in her blue uniform, her private quarters in the background. Frank and Jim sat at the kitchen table.

Frank looked at Jim and Jim looked away. Winona started to worry about how serious this would be.

“If it’s so bad that you’ve had to avoid talking to me for the last two weeks, then I want to know right now.” Static flickered her image as she looked at Jimmy, who refused to say anything. She looked at Frank, who swallowed.

He tried to speak twice before finally saying, “James has a medical condition we didn’t know about.”

Winona is alarmed, but holds it in, and only purses her lips. She looks more carefully at Jim, who hides behind the kitchen table. “Honey, what’s wrong-” Jim crossed his arms tightly and looked at the floor.

Frank intervenes, “-it’s not life threatening, but he’s managed to f- mess up the rest of his life.”

“What?” Winona is flabbergasted and scared. “How? James, what did-? What could you have-?” Winona eyes searched left and right; she tried to think of a medical condition that could fuck up Jimmy’s life, thought of him not walking, not talking, brain damage…

“He’s going to have a kid of his own, Winnie. You’re going to be a grandmother.”

It’s a slap in the face.

Winona’s expression went from concern to disappointment so quickly that Jim fled the kitchen.

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Title** : The Boy Who Was Too Young, Part 5  
 **Rating** : mild NC-17  
 **Pairing** : OMC/Jim, eventual Bones/Jim  
 **Warning** : mpreg, teenagers who are really too young, reference to abortion  
 **Thanks** : To both [](http://lifebehindadesk.livejournal.com/profile)[**lifebehindadesk**](http://lifebehindadesk.livejournal.com/) and [](http://hebrewhammer42.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://hebrewhammer42.livejournal.com/)**hebrewhammer42** for the awesome beta jobs.  
 **Author’s Note** : I was going to have an Enterprise part, but Bones was being grumpy. So we’ve got more of Riverside. Enjoy. =)

 **Summary** : Winona now knows, but she's too far away to offer the kind of comfort she wants to. Jim hates the world, and the Iowa family doctor (who is sadly not the doctor you all are waiting to see) has to deal with his shit.

 

 

**Riverside 2248**

Frank found it easier to explain the technicalities without Jim there. And once he told Winona, she said slowly, “…that’s impossible…” His wife had a hard time believing any of this.

The man chuckled with little humor. “I always told you Jimmy was an alien.”

“Shut up Frank,” she huffed and shook her head. She breathed a deep breath in, then out. Around her, the starship hummed with energy. She loved the feeling of space, but right then, she was so, so far away from Earth. “I can’t believe any of this… I want to look at Jim’s medical records.”

Frank tilted his head obligingly. “I’ll ask Dr. Carter to send them to you.”

They both fell silent except for the static of the transmission. Winona admitted this setback in Jim’s life may truly have defeated her career. She hung her head, thinking about diapers, crying babies, and wondering how much stress could her 15-year-old baby handle. “I’ll see if I can come home.”

Frank nodded, tired too.

\---------------------------------

Dr. Carter kindly sent Jim’s files. It wasn’t unusual for Winona to look through her family’s medical history.

Reviewing the facts, the changes in Jimmy’s body, and dear god, the fetal development, Winona couldn’t deny the reality.

“What are you looking at, Doctor?” A nurse asked.

She smiled politely, and discreetly tilted the PADD away from sight. “Oh nothing, just reviewing patient files.”

\---------------------------------

Jim was in the middle of class, crossly ignoring all his friends and the teacher’s lecture, when a message arrived on his PADD.

To: James Kirk, Riverside High School  
From: Dr. Winona Kirk, USS Kurtzman.  
 _“Honey, I love you. And nothing will change that.”_

Jim quietly turned his PADD over, his lips pressed tightly together. He was so angry, he could cry. The rest of the room faded from his mind, and he just strived to keep his breathing quiet and even.

\---------------------------------

“You okay?” Robert finally asked, the first of Jim’s friends to dare mention the strangeness Jim was going through. The rounded stomach could no longer be hidden under a loose shirt, and Jim had been taken out of gym class and placed in study hall instead.

“What are ya talking about?” Jim responded, shrugging the question off casually.

And Robert almost backed off, not wanting to push. “Nothing. We're just worried about you. You aren’t sick, are you?”

“Yeah, I’m sick. Doctor says my intestines are swelling.”

“What?! No way, are you okay?!”

“Naw, I’m throwing up all the time, got really bad diarrhea too, bloody. Did you know I wiped my bare ass on the locker room benches? You’re _all_ going to get it.” Jim grinned evilly, while Robert’s face twisted  from fearful shock to mock outrage.

They both laughed it off, and Robert left without demanding the real answer. Jim smiled at his friend, then flipped the bird at his friend's turned back, feeling angry. No one could be trusted to just leave him the fuck alone.

\---------------------------------

“How do you feel?” Dr. Carter asked.

“Fine.” Jim breathed in, then out. “I hate this.”

“I imagine it isn’t terribly fun.” The doctor spoke evenly, and was more focused on the readings than on him.

Jim laid on the medical bed, in the privacy of the examination room. His shirt was pulled up, revealing his rounded stomach. The doctor continually scanned his torso.

“I get headaches,” he admitted. “I hate this. I want to get fucking hammered.”

The doctor marked something in her files. “Well, that probably _won’t_ relieve the headaches. I was always a vodka girl. You haven’t had any alcohol, have you?”

“Not lately.”

“But have you had any since you became pregnant?”

Jim frowned, snappish. “I didn’t fucking know. It’s not my fucking fault.”

“We’ll keep a close eye for potential consequences. No alcohol, no drugs, no smoking.”

“I’m not stupid.” The boy looked away, sullen.

“Do you exercise often?”

“Yeah.”

“How often?”

“Two, three, four times a day…”

“That’s a lot. Intense exercise?”

“Yeah, look at these muscles.” Jim showed off his biceps.

“You may need to lighten the load.”

“No way!”

“I’m not telling you to stop. Light exercise is plenty. No contact sports.”

“This is bullshit.”

“No, this is serious." And to show how serious, she put the scanner down and pinned her gaze on him. "Have you had any swelling?”

Jim shrugged.

She grabbed his left hand. “I’m asking because your wrist is puffy. How long has it been like this?”

Jim sighed impatiently. “A week or two, off and on. It’s _fine_ most of the time.”

“We’re going to keep an eye on it. Are you eating healthy?”

“I’m good!” Jim argued angrily.

“Milk, vegetables, fruits? Healthy meats, less sugar?”

“I know how to eat right.” Jim argued, looking incensed.

“Really?” The blonde challenged. “Because while you’re iron and B12 levels are good, you’re deficient in vitamin A and folic acid.”

“You don’t know anything,” Jim sneered.

“My doctorate disagrees with that. I’ve heard how smart you are James, I’m sure you’re well aware of the bad choices you’re making. So I’m going to warn you right now: your blood pressure is high, and there’s protein in your urine. That’s dangerous James.”

He said nothing.

“This is affecting your health. And honesty? You’re too irresponsible.”

“Fuck you! This isn’t my fault!”

Dr. Carter calmly countered, “A hundred years ago, you could have acquired any of hundreds of diseases from sleeping around. You’re stupid. This _is_ your fault. Whether you know about the consequences before you make a decision or not, you still have to live up to the consequences. Do you know what your body is doing to itself? Your insides are being squashed and distorted and they’ll never be the same. You’re very quickly driving yourself into pre-eclampsia, and I don’t trust you to follow my instructions when I tell you that you have _got_ to lay off the exercise. You have _got_ to eat healthy. I don’t care what bullshit you believe about getting in shape. With this bizarre situation…” she trailed off, again wondering how long she she was going to leave the baby in there, then quickly began talking again to cut off Jim’s chance to argue.

“I’m trying to figure out how the hell we’re going to get that baby out of you. None of our options are ideal, _nothing_ in situation is ideal, and I want you to understand that we have entered into humanly unknown territory with your condition, and this is dangerous enough that we could legally stop things before they go further.”

And for the first time, the anger in the boy’s eyes deadened. Not sure how he felt about the idea, Jim's expression went blank.

\---------------------------------

“How’s he doin’ ma’am?” Frank asked, as Jim walked sullenly out of the examination room.

Dr. Carter sighed. “It’s not what I want to see. I’ve prescribed antihypertensives because his heart is working too hard. _And_ his liver isn’t functioning at a hundred percent. I’m not going to prescribe anything for that yet, but he needs to take it easy, and eat well, and don’t let him anywhere near alcohol.”

The man was slightly alarmed. “He hasn’t damaged his liver that badly, has he?”

The doctor shook her head. “If he wasn’t pregnant, he would probably be fine. He’s young. But in his current condition, you’ll need to keep a close eye on him. If he has any pains, swelling, or seizures, call me right away. There’s a growing chance that this baby might not survive. And I want you to know that this is dangerous enough to Jim’s health that we could legally stop it.”

“…what?” The step father was surprised.

“It would be legal.” She looked past the silent man, to where Jim was already leaving through the clinic’s front door. She yelled at his retreating back, “I want you in here every week, Kirk!”

\---------------------------------

In the privacy of the truck, Frank asked, “Did the doctor tell you that-”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Alright," Frank nodded, then asked, "You okay?”

“I’m fucking fine.”

Frank glared. “Watch your mouth.”

Jim glared back. “Just leave me alone!” He didn’t mention the terrible headache he had.

Frank snarled at the passing scenery, and slammed his fist on the wheel. Then he turned and yelled, “You will straighten up! And if you drink even a sip of alcohol, I will slap you so hard you won’t see straight for the next five months!”

And Frank almost did slap the sullen teen then and there, barely containing his anger. He drove home with sharp jerks of the steering wheel. Jim refused to say anything.

 

 


	6. Chapter 6

**Title** : The Boy Who Was Too Young, Part 6  
 **Rating** : mild NC-17  
 **Pairing** : Bones/Jim, OMC/Jim  
 **Warning** : mpreg, teenagers who are really too young, reference to abortion  
 **Thanks** : To both [](http://lifebehindadesk.livejournal.com/profile)[**lifebehindadesk**](http://lifebehindadesk.livejournal.com/) and [](http://hebrewhammer42.livejournal.com/profile)[**hebrewhammer42**](http://hebrewhammer42.livejournal.com/) for the awesome beta jobs.

 **Summary** : Leonard can tell something is up, but he's not willing to push any boundaries between Jim and himself. And back in Riverside, tensions are rising between Frank and Jim.

 **Author’s Note** : I've gone back through the previous chapters, and revised them a bit, as well as added location and dates. Most of these dates were probably self evident, except for the [first scene in the first chapter,](http://shingo-the-pest.livejournal.com/122819.html) which actually happens between the Riverside parts and the Enterprise parts. Exactly what's going on in that scene will be evident by the end of the story. Also, if the formatting on this chapter appears messed up in any way, please let me know. :( I'm worried the paragraphs will run together, and not display the paragraph breaks. The formatting appears fine on my computer, but I'm paranoid that it will appear as giant blocks on other displays. So let me know?

 

 

**Enterprise 2258**

Leonard sends vids to Joanna every few weeks and messages more often than that. It is difficult getting a direct call face to face, as Jocelyn guards his daughter like he was a villain. However, even she can’t deny Joanna's own pleas to speak to Daddy.

His daughter talks about every mundane aspect of her life, from her favorite purple ponytail tie to her fury at a broken doll. She loves running around in a tank top and shorts, and she cried to Daddy when she discovered her feet were the largest in her class. At the time, he soothed her insecurities with words of how beautiful she was, but he yearned to grab her in his arms, to hug and kiss her tears away, and hold her all night.

Her hair is brown like his, but he sees Jocelyn in her pale skin and bony shoulders. He knows she’ll grow into those large feet to be tall and elegant just like her mother.

Here on the Enterprise, life is just getting rolling. They have been on assignment for a month now, and all the newness is finally starting to feel normal. Leonard had been impressed the first time he saw the Enterprise, the day he smuggled Jim onto the ship. As batshit crazy as it is to be out in space, getting shot at by psychopathic Romulans, Leonard grudgingly admits he has fallen a little bit in love with this ship.

Jim is way past falling in love. Leonard’s never seen the man stand straighter than when he walks to the bridge, and never seen the man more humble than when he talks about the crew.

The kid has grown from a rebellious, sure-of-himself ass into a loyal, sure-of-himself ass with the charisma and cunning to win over even his fiercest critics. Leonard has grown from a shy but determined med student into the CMO of Starfleet’s flagship. And in becoming CMO, he’s become Jim’s primary physician. Every time he treats his Captain, a part of McCoy is dying to find out about the red tape on Kirk’s profile.

The first time Leonard treated Jim, when they were both in the Academy, he had been surprised to see that a privacy request guarded a locked file on Jim's medical record. Approval to see the protected information required permission from James T. Kirk or emergency situation approval from Dr. Angela Carter. Leonard had questioned Jim, but the kid just joked it off as embarrassing STDs. Then, for the rest of their time at the Academy, Jim had cleverly avoided medical checkups with Bones.

Now out of the Academy, and after what was probably the most unlikely near-death situation possible in any time-space continuum, Leonard can see just how adept Kirk is at bluffing when asked questions he doesn’t want to deal with. The Captain is able to politely steer around unwanted issues without drawing attention to himself. It makes McCoy more curious, and more cautious, every time he is faced with that privacy request in Jim’s file. Jim still denies him approval to view it. But as CMO he can now override Jim’s permission…

He is not stupid enough or rude enough to do that, though his curiosity is just killing him. He would miss Jim’s playful grin if he did. And something in Jim’s smiling eyes says that his trust in Bones is honest and hard won. It’s daunting to think about, and keeps Leonard from ever entering his override; from betraying the kid’s trust. He wants to please Jim, with an earnestness he hasn’t had to deal with since things soured between himself and Jocelyn. Sometimes he has to ignore a slight twinge in his libido when Jim turns those bright blue eyes on him, and Leonard's imagination gives him a flash of those cheeky eyes looking up at him, or the thought of Jim's breath on his cock...

He knows better than to fancy those thoughts. James Kirk has always been a ladies man, but Jim doesn’t react well to male advances. Jim had aborted a good friendship with Gary Mitchell when the man became interested in more. Gary’s affection had been returned with sudden cruelty, and Jim had absolutely destroyed the man’s interest, and the friendship.

\---------------------------------

**Riverside 2249**

Jim woke up to the _burrrr_ of a modern snow blower. It was two hours before school, and already the daylight shown through the window. From his bed, he could see the flurry of snow. The world was bright white and blinding. If Sam and he were still kids, they would run out in glee, throw snow balls at each other, and grab their sleds. But Sam was gone, and Jim couldn't get on a sleigh because of this parasite in his belly.

Maybe he should go sleigh regardless. Screw any danger.

He lay in bed, laying just as he had when he woke up, entertaining the idea until his mind went blank.

\---------------------------------

"I cleared all the snow this morning without you," Frank waved his cup of coffee, dripping snow from his boots onto the kitchen floor. Jim didn’t even look at him, just kept eating his oatmeal. "I figured you'd be too delicate in your condition to go out in the cold yourself. But maybe once you're feeling better you can help out around the house again. Remember that winter the snow blower was broken?"

That was the year Frank thought Sam and Jim needed to learn the ancient way of clearing snow, with shovels.

\---------------------------------

“Hey, James,” Lucy Smith slowly came up behind him in the school hall. He closed his locker, hiding the prescriptions.

“Hey,” James answered quietly. They both stood awkwardly.

“I know it’s been a long time since we talked,” she admitted. “And I know that you’ve had a lot of girlfriends besides me, so, I mean, I’m not thinking I’m special or anything…”

“You are,” He answered, kindly. His eyes dropped diffidently.

She paused, and smiled bashfully. “So are you. Look, I’m not trying to flirt or anything. I just wanted to check and see that you’re all right.”

Any magic in the moment dropped when he sighed, and turned away. “I’m fine.”

She frowned, her expression filled with disappointment. “I’m worried about you. Everyone is.”

Jim grunted in aggravation, leaning back against the lockers. “Everyone should mind their own goddamn business. I’m fine! It’s a tumor, all right? They’re going to take it out in a few months, and then everything will be back to normal. So just fuck off.”

She stood straighter, affronted. “Alright. You’re fine. But what I don’t understand is why the hell a tumor is turning you into such an asshole.” She turned and walked back to her friends, who waited twenty feet away. Her best friend, who Jim had kissed at freshman Homecoming, glared.

Jim’s friend Robert came up behind him and whispered, “Jesus Christ, you need to chill.”

\---------------------------------

Christmas and Jim's birthday were awkward affairs this year. Jim aborted any party attempts due to feelings of embarrassment and shame. Friends still gave him gifts, but inwardly, Jim looked at each gift as a pity present.

His mother and he had an uncomfortable vid call, and James avoided Frank when the man tried to take him out to eat to celebrate. But the worst was that afternoon, when the call from Sam came in.

Jim had locked himself in his room, reading Earnest Hemingway, when Frank knocked on his door.

"What is it?"

Through the door Frank said, "You brother's on the phone!"

James hesitated, scared for a moment. "I don't want to talk to him!"

Frank was silent. Then he opened the door, and glared at Jim. "Talk to your brother."

"No!"

"Godda-" Frank bite back the curse. "Can you hold for a moment?" He asked the phone.

George’s tiny phone voice snipped back, _"What's wrong? It's his birthday, you've been nice to him today at least, right?"_

Frank gritted his teeth in aggravation, and argued, "I need to talk to your brother, George," then put the line on hold before the college student could disagree. Jim was still glaring from him bed.

"I don't want to talk to him," the boy growled.

"You're going to have to tell him eventually," Frank argued crossly.

"I don't. Want. To."

"It's your birthday. You have to talk to him."

"No!"

And no amount of coercing would convince Jim to talk with his brother, by vid or even phone. That night Sam sent a data asking if Jim was okay, and if Frank had been particularly harsh lately. Jim deleted the message and rolled over in bed, lonely.

\---------------------------------

Three feet of snow covered the ground, and the cold soaked in through his room’s window. Life sucked. Everything sucked.

With self pity came restless energy. That evening, he turned up the music in his room. Angrily, Jim pumped his dumbbells, his biceps flexed, sweat dripped off his forearms and cheeks. Then he dropped the dumbbells, and jumped into plank, did five push ups, kept his heart elevated with his blood pounding in his ears. Then he turned over to do sit ups, circuiting his exercise. The strange weight in his core was throwing off his balance, but he wouldn’t let it get in his way.

For breakfast, he had three eggs and orange juice. At school that day, he told himself ‘screw counting calories,’ and had a hamburger, fries and slice of chocolate cake. Back home for dinner, he snubbed the salad and veggies Frank had left him in the fridge and replicated BBQ ribs with mashed potatoes. He didn’t even take the vitamin the doctor wanted him to take. He did another forty-five minutes of interval training before bed.

The next morning the food didn’t sit well in his stomach. He stumbled into the bathroom at four in the morning to puke up his guts. He felt terrible as he stumbled back into his room, remembering days when his mother would stroke his hair, tuck him into bed, and hold a glass of water to his lips. She used to say, “Relax, honey, just relax. Everything will be all right.”

\---------------------------------

At school, his friends obediently pretended nothing weird was happening, but they walked on egg shells around him. Just like all the adults around town. They politely did not bring up the issue, not acknowledging something James and his parents hadn’t acknowledged to the public yet.

The teachers were nosy, as they were used to intervening in their student’s lives, but they didn’t know what to make of him. They worried about his grades, they worried that he’d stopped trying, they worried that he was sick, but thankfully the principal and nurse were the only ones informed exactly what Jim’s sickness was. The gym teacher took offense that he wasn’t allowed to play James T. Kirk in baseball that spring. “You’d better stay in shape son. I’m not happy that you’ll be missing your sophomore season.”

\---------------------------------

Frank stood in the doorway of James’ room as Jim pressed 150 lbs. “The doctor told you to stop.”

“I can make my own damn choices.”

“But I don’t trust you to make smart choices.” The man stepped into Jim’s room, and pulled the bar out of Jim’s hands; Jim snarled in protest. They played tug of war until Frank finally wrestled control.

The argument escalated, and the entire evening was ruined, but it was the next day that was the most horrible. Jim came home from another humiliating day at school, to find all the equipment gone from his room. His room had been stripped bare, all his music gone, his model cars and starships vanished, and even his hidden girly magazines were missing. His computer had been locked down to the barest functions. Worst was that his Dad’s antique books were also gone.

He ran down the stairs, the weight of his stomach making him sway. “You fucker!” He screamed into the kitchen, looking left and right. “Where’s my stuff?! What the hell did you do with my stuff?!” He swung through the dining room and the empty living room, and then ran back through the kitchen and into the garage, where Frank was programming next year’s crops.

“You have no right!” Jim screamed, grabbing his stepfather by the shirt. “That’s my stuff! Give it back, you have no right!”

Frank was impassive, obviously expecting this. “You are in my house-”

“This is my mother’s house!”

“And I’m in charge! I’m sick of your bullshit; if you’re going to act like a spoiled brat, then I’m going to treat you like a spoiled brat-”

“You can’t control me!”

“You can’t control yourself!”

Jim’s teeth were bared, and his vision was getting blurry. “But you took my _books_. My _stuff_. You have no reason to! You shouldn’t have taken my weights, but why the hell did you take my fucking stuff?! You have no right!”

“You’ll get your things back once you prove you deserve them. And mind your mouth.”

Jim let go of his stepfather’s shirt, shoulders still trembling. He walked backwards, staring at the person he hated more than anyone else in the world. He gulped, and could feel a tear run down his cheek, so he turned and fled the garage, not wanting Frank to see him cry.

\---------------------------------

He thought about lighting up the whole damn house, just to keep Frank from having it. Thought about burning all of the crops. They owned the entire ten thousand acres on the southwestern side of Riverside. Frank would rage at the money and food lost.

He wanted to do it. He wanted to just destroy everything.

So he snuck out of the house that night, and crept through snow and ice to Jacob’s Bar and Grill on Main Street. He went into the alley, and slipped in through the backdoor. In the storage room, there were crates of liquor and beer. He grabbed as many bottles of rum and vodka as he could carry, and then snuck out again.

 


	7. Chapter 7

**Title** : The Boy Who Was Too Young, Part 7  
 **Rating** : mild NC-17  
 **Pairing** : Bones/Jim, OMC/Jim  
 **Warning** : mpreg, teenagers who are really too young, reference to abortion  
 **Thanks** : To both [](http://lifebehindadesk.livejournal.com/profile)[**lifebehindadesk**](http://lifebehindadesk.livejournal.com/) and [](http://hebrewhammer42.livejournal.com/profile)[**hebrewhammer42**](http://hebrewhammer42.livejournal.com/) for the awesome beta jobs.  
 **Notes** : According to Memory Beta, Sam was born [12 August 2230](http://memory-beta.wikia.com/wiki/George_Samuel_Kirk_Jr). Also, [cold weather causes arteries to constrict](http://www.google.com/search?q=cold+weather+blood+pressure&rls=com.microsoft:en-us&ie=UTF-8&oe=UTF-8&startIndex=&startPage=1;). This elevates risk for anyone with high blood pressure.

 **Summary** : Jim learns about his family history, and it changes his point of view of his situation. Or maybe he's just finally being honest with himself. Meanwhile, Winona is looking at the medical charts and getting scared.

**Riverside, April 2249**

For three weeks, James snuck into Jacob’s Bar and Grill. He trudged through the snow and cold with obstinate and illogical stubbornness, on a mission against the forces in his life he couldn’t control.

He didn’t share any of his stolen bounty with his friends, hoarding the drinks to himself. He hid it in Sam’s room, rightly thinking that Frank wouldn’t look through the old boxes of video games that had been packed up.

Dr. Carter clucked and hummed at every visit. “Stay inside and dress warmly. The cold is hurting your heart. Your blood pressure is rising.”

“I feel fine,” James insisted.

“But you’re not. You’re getting worse.” She looked at him with a criticizing eye. “Do you want me to take out it yet?”

Yes.

He should just say yes and be done with this. But he didn’t.

\---------------------------------

It was on the fourth trip to Jacob’s that he was caught.

He was going through the vodka when suddenly the door into the main bar area opened. The voices of people laughing and talking came through, and the shadow of an old man floated in.

In the corner, leaning over a stack of crates, James froze. Then he knelt down to hide.

“Kirk, is that you?”

The boy's heart sank down to his stomach.

“Boy, I know you’re in there. You probably owe me a hundred credits for all the booze you’ve been taking, but let’s forget about that for now. I just want to talk.” The tavern’s owner closed the door, and slowly walked across the small storage room. It wasn’t hard to find Jim, crouched in the corner behind the crates of beer. He leaned over and offered a hand. “Are you comfortable down there?”

Jim refused the hand. He stood up on his own power, bracing one arm against the wall and pushing up with the other arm to support his off balanced weight. Once standing, James leaned against the wall, easing some of the strain in his back.

“I figured it had to be you on the security tapes,” the old man told him, “Ain’t no one else in quite the same condition as you are.”

“You going to turn me in?” Jim tensed.

“Well, I haven’t told the sheriff yet. Why don’t you and I sit down and talk?”

The old man pulled two folding chairs from the stack leaning against the wall and kindly offered James the seat. With a little difficulty (but more pride than a lion) the teen sat down. He warily watched the tavern manager.

“It’s been awhile since you last came in to the restaurant.” The man reflected, “You and your brother used to come by all the time and order quesadillas.”

“Sam’s not here.” Jim pointed out, unhappily.

“And neither is your Ma. I reckon it must be pretty lonely, just you and your stepdad.”

James Kirk scoffed, and leaned back into his chair with arms crossed defensively.

The old man persisted, “He cares about you, but I hear he’s not too good about showin’ it.”

Jim made a long face. “He doesn’t care. He only tries to be nice because he doesn’t want to get in trouble with my mom.”

“He’s shown a lot of concern for you.”

All Frank cared about was his job. “She never would have married him, if it wasn’t for the crops. She should have just sold the land.”

“But that’s your Pa’s land. She didn’t want to sell it. She’s hoping that someday you or your brother might want it.”

Jim would never, ever be a farmer. “I don’t fucking want it.”

“I doubt many fifteen year olds would-”

“I’m sixteen now.” Jim muttered quietly. The man paused in mistake, then sighed in acquiescence.

“My apologies. I should have remembered. It was easier to keep track when your Ma brought you boys in every January and August. I haven't had a chance to bring out the streamers and balloons for you in recent years.”

Jim remembered balloons piled high on the restaurant floor, and music playing while everyone sang for him. The cakes were large enough to feed everyone there. All the kids in his class would come. Even the bar regulars, only there for lunch, would clap and cheer.

The last party had been when Jim was twelve. The joy hadn’t been there because Sam had run away and their mother had left for space six months before. Frank was sore and surly over the incident with the car. That year Jim thought more about the real father he had never met, and what that meant for his birthday. It hadn’t felt like much of a party; all the regulars had tried to make the occasion cheerful and festive, but they couldn’t lighten the darkness Jim felt. There hadn’t been a birthday party since.

When James didn’t respond, the old man cautiously tried another tactic. “Have I ever told you how your Pa met Winona?”

“No..." Jim answered hesitantly, not expecting the question.

The old man waved his finger in the way he always did when he told a story. “It was here, at my bar. She was with her friends, sitting at the counter over there, four stools down from the window. Your Pa was working here at the time, just 19, and it was the night all the Starfleet cadets from the east coast stop by.” The old man leaned forward with enthusiasm for his story. Jim listened with hidden interest.

“Your Ma was in her cadet reds, and boy, I can tell you the moment George first caught sight of her. He stopped mid-sentence, and stared dumb for thirty seconds. Was the funniest thing.” The tavern master shook his head with a grin. “We pushed him to talk to her and the two of them spent the whole night together. And would you believe the next morning he signed up for Starfleet? It’s what your granddad had been pushing him to do, but it took a pretty lady to finally make it happen! George Kirk followed your mother out into space.”

Light had been gathering behind Jim’s eyes during the story but it suddenly faded at the end. “Maybe if he hadn’t followed her, he wouldn’t be dead.”

“But then you and your brother wouldn’t be here. Good comes out of every mistake.”

“So it was a mistake for my father to follow my mother?” The boy looked the old tavern master in the eye confrontationally, daring the man to confirm it.

One would expect the old man to backpedal from what he said, but the man was confident in what he said, “None of us know what will come with life. Only choice we have is whether we are happy or not.”

The boy glared for a long moment, before tiredly looking away. “What the fuck do you know.”

“I know what your stomach looks like, even if I don’t know how the hell it happened. But I seen stranger things from the neighbors.” Old man Jacob's house was half a mile from the bar, and he lived next to a Renzite family with some pretty unusual housekeeping habits. “Ain’t anything you can take for granted in these times. Exciting really.”

It sure as hell wasn’t exciting to live with it growing in your stomach! “Exciting ‘cause I’m a freak? Maybe I wanted do things. Maybe I wanted to go to school in Africa, and study geo-biology and fucking _do_ something when I graduate. Now they’re telling me that I’ve got this thing growing in me, and I’m going to have a kid - I’m a freak, and everyone stares at me!”

“No one thinks unkindly of you, boy. This town has nothing but concern for you.”

“Yeah, but the people who know what’s going on think I’m the worst! Who the fuck gets pregnant at sixteen? You’re _screwed_ if that happens! You’re trash! You don’t get a good job, you’re the town loser, and everyone is telling me how irresponsible I am... The principal used to think I was the smartest kid at school, but now he just shakes his head at me like my whole life’s a waste. The doctor thinks I don’t deserve a kid, all my friends think I’m a freak, Frank’s fucking with me more than ever, and my mom’s biting her fingers ‘cause she’s trying to get home, and she’s not sure if she’s gonna get back in time, and…I’m screwed! This is fucking up everything! I haven’t even told Sam yet. Don’t know what the hell _he’s_ going to think.” And Jim’s nose was running now, wiping at the dampness in his eyes, and looking more pathetic than a toddler. The old man squeezed the boy's shoulder. And when that wasn’t enough, he scooted forward to hug Jim tight.

“Everything’s going to be alright son. I know it’s scary, and you’re not sure what’s going to happen from here on out, but you’re strong. You’ll survive. Hell, you’ll probably even thrive, you Kirks always do. You know that’s how your daddy was born, right? He was just as much an accident as this baby right here is. Your grandpa came crying to me back when we were in high school ‘cause he got Maggie pregnant, and he thought the world was going to end.”

Jim knew about the ill timed fiasco that was his own birth, but he had never heard this about his grandparents. “My grandma was in high school when she had my Dad?”

“Their senior year. Neither of them knew how they were going to pay for a family, or whether they’d be able to go to college, any of that. He came to my house, and he cried his soul out, certain life was over for them both. But they pulled through. You seen those pictures of them in your house, ain’t ya? They were happy. He bought his first five hundred acres while she was pregnant. Cut some tight deals, but he made it work. Because he knew he had to find some way to carve out a life for the two of them, so he was more determined to succeed than any other human. He ended up prospering in his hardest times.”

James just nodded against the old man’s shoulder. Jacob Carter gently rocked them both. “You’ll be happy kid. There’s nothing but love for you in this world. You and this baby are gonna be happy,” he murmured.  
    
“Dr. Carter wants me to get rid of it.” Jim mumbled through tears.

The man pulled away. “What?”

“She says it’s dangerous. She says it’s hurting my health.”

“...Huh. And how far along are you?”

“It’s been about five or six months.”

“And what do you want?”

James was silent for a long time. He shrugged. “I don’t know.”

The old man sighed and considered. “Not many people get this chance. No kid to raise. No birth.” The man rubbed his old hand up and down Jim’s back soothingly. “You could go to the best college in Africa, right? Join Starfleet, and whatever else you planned before all this happened. Is that what you want?”

“I…I don’t know.” And the boy looked lost and confused, dazed even.

“I think you’ll figure it out. In the meantime, I believe you’ve taken about four bottles of rum, and six bottles of vodka.”

James froze.

“That’s a decent penny. But I was thinking you could pay me back by helping out round here.”

Jim relaxed just a little. “You’re not going to tell Frank, are you?”

“Well… I’d maybe let the thieving go, and just keep it between you and me. But you’ve been drinking son, and Angela needs to know about it.”

“No, not Dr. Carter,” Jim groaned. “She hates me already!”

“And I don’t think she’ll let it go without telling your Pa.”

“She can tell my Mom—have her tell my Mom, then Mom can tell Frank. Or not at all, I can convince her to not tell Frank at all-”

“We’ll see what Angela decides.”

\---------------------------------

“I see,” Dr. Carter sighed as she wrote this all down on James Kirk’s record. “This does little to encourage faith in you, Kirk.”

“Be kind to the boy, Angela,” the old tavern master scolded.

“Shut up Dad,” the doctor griped.

On the examination table, James sulked. “You’re not going to tell Frank are you? Tell my mom instead; she’ll be able to handle it.

Dr. Carter pursed her lips. “I’ll tell Winona regardless, but she’s not here to watch you-”

“I’ll stop! I don’t need to be watched!”

“I’m not just talking about drinking! I’m more worried about the complications now. Your father needs to be told, because we need to keep an extra close eye on you for the next four months. This is serious.”

“He’s not my father.”

“Do I care?” The doctor sighed in agitation. “Have you made up your mind about aborting this? I think we should stop before it goes any further.”

“I’m keeping it.” Jim said firmly. Finally, he had decided.

“You took your time making up your mind, Kirk,” the doctor pointed out tiredly. “Let’s see if you can apply the same reckless determination to having a baby as you have to endangering your health. I’ll talk to your mother about this later. And I’m calling your stepfather now.”

Dr. Carter left the examination room, her father trailing behind her.

Dread knotted James' stomach just thinking about dealing with Frank, but he also felt better than he had in months. People knew. Mr. Carter knew. The whole town probably knew. And it was okay.

They left him in there for about ten minutes. Then Dr. Carter opened the door and waved him out. "Your stepdad is here."

In the waiting room, Frank was talking with old Mr. Carter. As soon as he looked at James, the boy knew he was in trouble.

"I'm gonna kill you-"

"He's threatening me, you should arrest him-"

"You are grounded for the rest of your life! Straight home every night until your mother gets back-"

"No! You suck!"

"Well actually," Mr. Carter interrupted, "he owes me a bit of money,"

Frank sighed. "I'm so sorry, Jacob; I'll pay you back for all of it."

The old man spread his hands. "No, no, you see, I had struck a deal with him just before we called you. I was going to have him work for me, until we're even. Sounds fair, doesn't it?"

"That's...well, he's been difficult lately." Frank's evil eye towards Jim implied worse than just "difficult".

"Maybe he needs something to keep him occupied. Less likely to get in trouble when he's got his hands full, don't you think? I'll have him bus tables."

Dr. Carter interrupted, her sardonic tone implying she didn't think much of the whole idea, "I want him off his feet."

"No, I can do it!" Jim insisted.

"If he can make it five miles from his house to my bar in the freezing cold, then I don't think a few tables will mean much to him, Angela."

Hearing about this for the first time, Frank's eyes bulged. "How many times have you done this, James?"  
    
Jim tried to think of a way to downplay his escapades, but the doctor interrupted to argue with her father. "I don't want him walking five miles through the snow! I don't want him out in the cold at all! I don't want him working; I don't want him to _move_ for the next four months. I want to strap him down to a bed and keep him there!"

"I'm so sorry, ma'am-" Frank began.

"You'll be sorry when that boy is in a coma," the doctor asserted, pointing her finger at Jim.

\---------------------------------

In the end, Jim was allowed to work at the bar, though he wouldn’t be doing any physical work, and he would be driven everywhere from now. Frank's anger and yelling that night hurt in ways that Jim had been numb to for weeks, maybe years. He remembered cleaning a car and crying, and the same desire for decisiveness burned in his heart. His feet and fingers itched for action, but he held himself still, very still in his bed, equating action with destruction. He would be still tonight. He would learn to live a still and calm life, at least until summer. He had made his decision, and this choice was his now.

Tonight when Frank came to his room with the vid-phone, Jim took the call.

"It's your mother," Frank announced into the dark bedroom.

Jim stared silently for a moment, then rolled over in his sheets, and stretched out an arm.

Frank handed over the phone and shut the door.

 _"Honey, are you there?"_ Winona asked from light years away.

"Hey, Mom," Jim quietly responded.

_"I can't see you. Everything is dark. Are you in bed already?"_

"Yeah. But I can't sleep."

_"Oh. I just wanted to see you."_

"Yeah. Me too."

_"Dr. Carter told me that you've been drinking."_

He was quiet for a long time. Then, "I'm sorry."

_"I know honey. I know."_

"Where are you?" He asked softly.

On the tiny little screen, she closed her eyes, and her face twisted with regret. _"Sector 2405-G. It'll be another month and a half before we cross paths with any vessels that are returning to Sol."_

"Will you be here by August?" He pleaded.

_"I'm trying honey. I'm trying really hard to be there in time."_

"Please?" He didn't say  'please mommy', but he wanted to so much.

 _"I'm trying,"_ she pleaded back.

In her mind, she held him tightly in her arms, all curled up in her lap. In his mind, she was there stroking his hair, kissing his forehead. In reality, they were both alone.

"I'm gonna keep it, Mom. No matter what she tells you, I'm gonna keep it."

_"I know, honey."_

"I considered it. I wanted to."

He resented this all, with destructive anger, but she knew how his heart worked. He had been the little boy who brought her broken birds and asked her to fix them. He had been the little boy who had broken his leg trying to get to the kitten in the tree.

He sounded like that little boy right now, as he softly confessed in the dark. "But...I didn't want to. You know? If I wanted to I would have done it already. The only reason I hadn't done it yet is because really I didn't want to. Does that make sense?"

She laughed, _"Yes, honey, it does."_

"I didn't want to. Not really."

 _"I know honey, but this is dangerous,"_ she warned.

"I know, I messed up."

 _"You have to take it easy. No alcohol, no sugar. No more exercise, not even walks. Can you stay out of the cold?"_ She was scared for him.

"I can do that. I'll be careful."

She bit her lip in doubt, because her little boy had never been able to sit still, always poking his nose around the next corner.

_“Promise me?”_

“I promise.”

 _“Okay honey. I’ll keep you to that.”_ She kissed him over the screen, and since no one else was there to see, Jim smiled for her and smooched back. _“I’ll let you sleep Jimmy. If you feel any pain, any headaches, anything at all, tell Frank alright?”_

“’kay Mom. G’night.”

_“Night honey.”_

In Riverside, Jim fell asleep holding the phone next to his head. In space, Winona shut off the link, and leaned back in her chair, listening to the hum of the ship in her empty room. She and Angela Carter had gone over all the details, all the developments, and knowing what could potentially happen was as bad as seeing Jimmy with bloody bone sticking out of his leg, as bad as hearing that the police still couldn’t find Sam, as bad as watching Tiberius Kirk gasp for breath in a hospital bed as his brain filled with blood.

Knowing that if something went wrong it could be her little boy on the hospital bed, while his kidneys or liver failed, gasping the last breaths, the last words, saying goodbye separated by a ship and space, unable to reach out and say “don’t leave me” just as he was gone-

No.

While Jim slept, Winona paced, anxiety and worry insisting she take action. But out here, there was nothing she could do.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am an idiot. I made a few stupid geographical errors in the beginning of the story, and when I'm a little less tired, I will to go back and revise the story a bit. For now, just know that Riverside is right next to Sioux City. And there are no canyons nearby, but I'll keep that in for the sake of movie canon (not that it appears in this story anyway). And Iowa isn't as dry as the movie shows, but I digress. Also, Riverside is right in the corner of the state where Iowa meets South Dakota and Nebraska. This may only matter to the geeks in Nebraska or South Dakota, like me. ^^V

**Title** : The Boy Who Was Too Young, Part 8  
 **Rating** : mild NC-17  
 **Characters** : Jim, Frank and Winona, Bones/Jim, OMC/Jim  
 **Warning** : mpreg, teenagers who are really too young, talk of abortion  
 **Thanks** : To both [](http://lifebehindadesk.livejournal.com/profile)[**lifebehindadesk**](http://lifebehindadesk.livejournal.com/) and [](http://hebrewhammer42.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://hebrewhammer42.livejournal.com/)**hebrewhammer42** for the awesome beta jobs.  
 **Notes:** I am an idiot. I made a few stupid geographical errors in the beginning of the story, and when I'm a little less tired, I will to go back and revise the story a bit. For now, just know that Riverside is right next to Sioux City. And there are no canyons nearby, but I'll keep that in for the sake of movie canon (not that it appears in this story anyway). And Iowa isn't as dry as the movie shows, but I digress. Also, Riverside is right in the corner of the state where Iowa meets South Dakota and Nebraska. This may only matter to the geeks in Nebraska or South Dakota, like me. ^^V

 **Summary** : Life is just a little bit easier for Jim. He's got friends and family to be with, he's taking better care of himself, and the weather has even let up. But it's a false sense of safety.

 

**Riverside, May 2249**

Jacob’s Bar and Grill was half restaurant, half bar. Jim offered to bus tables and wash dishes but he was instead given the cash register, and kindly forced to sit on a stool, with little walking around. He was on strict orders to not work the bar, and to stay out of the now locked backroom, but he still chatted up with the bartender, playfully trying to learn new mixed drinks.

"What about spiced rum? What can you do with that?"

The handsome young bartender, who had graduated Riverside High School the same time Jim was starting Junior High, knew he shouldn't encourage the boy, but still gave in to Kirk's irresistible charm.

"From what I've heard about you, you've probably have already tried it with coke. You can also mix in some lime and tea, and get a mojito." He winked at the kid. But of course, he only shared tips if old man Carter was out of hearing range.

Three hours every day after school were spent at the restaurant, with extra time on the weekends. Around seven o’clock, the atmosphere changed from relaxed dining to intent drinking among the older crowd, and Jim was always ushered home by this time. But for three hours Jim was surrounded by friendly neighbors. No one bluntly mentioned the condition he was in, but they would pat him on the back, tell him to "hang in there" and if he "needed help" to just ask.

Physically, he tried to take care of himself. Didn't drink, despite the playful talk. He ate more appropriately, took the vitamins and medications, and went easy on the exercise...though he didn't stop either. Still stretched in the morning, and went for short walks when he could slip away. Every other day he went to the doctor, where Angela Carter would measure his stats, blood pressure, inflammation, and warn him his health still wasn't looking good.

“Your liver is inflamed. So are your blood vessels. Now let me see your feet.”

She poked and prodded at his tender feet, tightly pursing her lips in a frown. Awkwardly holding up his left ankle with both hands he asked, "What do I need to do?"

Her gaze was quietly reproving. "There’s no way to undo the damage at this point. Just don't stress your body any further than you have already."

\---------------------------

Jim was at home working on homework when Robert's sister rolled up, her outdated four-door covered in mud. Robert was in the passenger seat, Michael and Zack in the back. The humans were all smiling and Zack looked slightly less long faced than normal for a Renzite.

“What’s up?” Jim asked.

“We’ve got something for you!” Michael announced.

The boys opened the dirty trunk and pulled out three big boxes, which they carried inside.

In the boxes was a rocking chair, with an ottoman. It was heavily cushioned, and made of a nice dark wood.

Robert explained. "My parents suggested you might need a chair like this. Something to prop your feet up, and Mom said that rockers are really good for, you know." Good for babies, Jim understood.

"So we saved up some money and got this for you!" Michael explained with a big smile.

"I pitched in too,” Robert's sister added.

The three boys looked happy, bright and honest smiles on both Michael and Robert's faces, and a reluctantly hopeful look on Zack's.

"Thanks," James smiled back, encouraged by their enthusiasm. The guys carried the boxes upstairs, though Michael almost dropping one. After some deliberation and hesitance, they assembled it in Sam's old room.

\---------------------------

After months of biting her fingers, his mother was able to tell him, "I’m coming home. I pressed the captain, and we’re finally going to detour to Deep Space Four, and I’ll be able to come home on the Valiant. It’ll be two more weeks before we reach the space station, and then a month and a half home, but I should be back in late July.” She looked hopeful and rueful, and Jim felt a twang of shame for making her feel guilty. This wasn’t her fault. But selfishly, he didn’t want her in space; he wanted her here at home. It would feel so good to be in her arms again.

He still hadn't told Sam. That was going to be a really awkward conversation.

It was May, and the ground was muddy and messy. The snow had completely melted away, and it rained too often. Feet sunk into the mud, and walking was a dirty chore, but a little bit of greenery was coming to life in the trees and the grass. Franks was busy programming the harvest, grumbling about whether the soil was ready or not for planting, and the man was blessedly preoccupied with issues that were not his step-son.

The sky that morning before school had been clear of clouds, but faintly yellow. James awoke with a headache that persisted through classes. That afternoon at work, everyone was at the bar for Cinco de Mayo, despite extremely blustery weather.

"Hey Jimmy, do you need a ride home tonight?" Robert's sister asked Jim, as she handed him several menus.

“Nope,” Jim shook his head, and tucked the paper menus away next to the cash register. "The jackass is coming by to pick me up at six."

"Oh good, cuz I wanted to work late anyway. I'm so close to moving out, I just want to save up four hundred more."

"You going to move to that place on Edgewater?"

"It’s cheap…” she admitted, but didn’t look convinced, “But I’d have to drive from Riverside to Sioux City every day."

"That’s not far…” She gave him a deadpan look, and he held his hands up in surrender. “I know, you want to get away from your parents. Are you going to move on campus?"

"Maybe...just, there’s another place I like." She tilted her head like she was second guessing whether she had meant to bring this up, and wanted to drop the subject.

He suddenly realized which place she had in mind. "Oh."

"Yeah." She grimaced with guilt, and then looked immediately apologetic. "Look, it's a nice place, you know?"

"Yeah."

"And it's cheap. Close, decent, and cheap. I really like it."

"That's cool." He shrugged.

"Really? Cuz you look like you're bummed. I'm not forcing you to hang out there or anything. Besides, I heard Clay moved out and went to Chicago. I just really like his building, even if he's a creep."

"Whatever. That's cool."

"If you say so." She stood there awkwardly, and he looked at her with disappointment, then away in silence. "Sorry," she apologized again. One of the customers at the far table was waving at her, so she gratefully took the chance to slip away.

The bartender had been spying on them, and slipped over to Jim to ask, "Who is Clay?"

"No one.” Jim grouched, thinking about the embarrassing and stupid things he had done at Clay. “He’s fucking no one."

The bartender took the hint, leaving Jim alone.

The elderly McConahees walked in through the door, smiling and cheerful, so Jim put on his false grin, and pointed them to a table.

\---------------------------

The sky was clear when Frank drove up, but the winds nearly barreled them both over as they left the restaurant. The gusts threatened to lift up the hovering truck, and Frank swore to himself for not taking a wheeled vehicle.

"This weather looks bad Jim," he told his captive passenger.

"I've got eyes, I can tell."

"These winds could tear up the crops real bad."

"I don't care." Playing bored, Jim ignored his step-dad and stared out the window. The trees along the river were bent over, flailing like streamers in a fan.

Frank ignored Jim's snideness and kept chatting. "Probably should have picked you up sooner. Wish I had. Hope nothing worse develops."

So they drove. Frank was driving as low to the ground as he could, but every now and then a gust would catch them by the underside and drag them up into the air. It felt like being on a boat in turbulent waters.

"Whoa, whoa there," Frank murmured to the truck as they lifted several feet up, then were pushed back down.

Jim gripped the seat arm tightly, his insides flipping. He felt like he might throw up.

"You okay there?" Frank asked, but didn't take his eyes off the road. They were only half a mile outside of Riverside, the buildings still in view. They had five more miles to reach home.

"Fine," the boy answered tightly.

"Should I head back? We might be safer back at the bar, waiting this out."

Jim swallowed bile, and nodded enthusiastically.

Frank cautiously turned the truck around, when suddenly the wind caught them again. They went sliding across the muddy road, banging once against the ground, then sliding into the crop land. Jim saw stars as he was jostled around in his harness, while his step-father swore, desperately trying to regain control.

Jim's heartbeat pounded like a drum against his temple as they came to rest on against the ground, about 100 feet from the road, in the middle of the wet and muddy fields.

"You okay?" Frank asked breathless.

Jim panted and nodded, but didn't open his eyes. His head hurt and he felt like vomiting.

"Okay. Shit, we’re stuck. We should have just stayed at the bar, damn it," the man swore. Then took a closer look at James. "Are you really okay?"

This time Jim shook his head with urgency, but gasped when the pressure in his head was too much for movement. "I really don't feel good," he said in a voice hoarse and wet. He twisted painfully to the side and retched against his window, but nothing came out. The pain wasn’t in his belly, but higher, right under his lungs. “It hurts. Here,” he panted, tenderly pointed right under his ribs.

"So it’s not the baby, right?”

“It still hurts!” Jim yelled, then clenched his teeth.

“Shit. Shit, shit, shit," Frank fumbled for Jim's seat, reclining it back as far as it would go. "What the hell’s wrong? What's your blood pressure?" Of course, he didn't have any way to tell, could only watch Jim hold his torso, face twisted in pain as the wild winds outside rocked the truck. He grabbed his phone, called the police.

A little voice on the comm answered, "Sir, do you need help?"

"Yeah, me and my boy, we're stuck right outside Riverside,” he yelled into the little phone, trying to speak over the rising roar. “This is Frank with the Kirk farms. I've got my step son here, and he's looking really bad. We got thrown by the winds, and now he's pale, vomiting, got a pain in his ribs. You've seen him lately, haven't you? This the local police I'm speaking to, right?"

"I’m speaking from the west side of Sioux City." The tiny voice answered. "I’ve got your location. How long do you think you boys can hang on?"

"I don't know. His doctor says he’s in bad shape, says his blood pressure is climbing, says his liver is overworked, she’s got him on all sorts of medication."

"We’re going to try and get to you quickly, but it’s hard to get through this wind. You and your son need to say inside your vehicle, alright? We’re going to get there in the next fifteen minutes.”

“Can you get his doctor?”

“Frank,” Jim gasped.

“Who is it?” the dispatcher asked about the doctor.

“Dr. Angela Carter! Can you get her?”

“Frank!” Jim tried again, reaching out one hand to grab his step father’s shirt.

“We’ll try sir. Hold tight.”

“What is it?” Frank finally asked, examining Jimmy’s face and body, seeing the young man’s attention was outside.

“Frank, look,” Jim pointed weakly and above them a large branch bounced off of the top of the truck. They were still stuck deep in the mud, and it was the only thing keeping the wind roaring wind from tossing them over, rolling across the fields. Jimmy’s finger pointed east, back to the town, at the towering black column bulldozing its way through the town, shreds of the buildings flying into the air.


End file.
